Memories in Words and Pictures
I collect young people's books. I have a general collection of books published from the mid nineteenth century onwards which includes everything from Louisa Alcott, through Julia Green, Joan Lingard, Philip Reeve and John Rowe Townsend to Paul Zindel. I don't necessarily have everything by all the authors in this collection; it's more of a... Continue Reading →
Over on my young people's book blog (www.picturesandconversations.co.uk) I've been writing about books that have made me (want to) travel to their settings and places that have made me seek out books set there. For as long as I can remember, books and places have been inextricably linked. I didn't always realise it, but it's... Continue Reading →
Today I saw my sister for the first time in almost four months. Outside and at a distance, but I saw her. We're almost each other's only family in Scotland so it was significant. Prior to the lockdown here I was in Australia and New Zealand visiting family and friends and had to return hastily.... Continue Reading →
'I'm pretty flexible about the New Zealand part of my trip,' I said to the long-suffering consultant at the other end of the line. A pause. 'There's just one non-negotiable, though. I have to spend some time in Dunedin. And I wouldn't mind going to Invercargill. A longer pause. The whisper of a sigh. 'Invercargill?'... Continue Reading →
I read a book today. It was about a woman who wrote a book. The book was about people the author knew. The book (the real one; not the one in the book) was a rewrite of another book. That book was also about a woman who wrote a book about people the author (the... Continue Reading →
Even before COVID-19 put an end to my trip of a lifetime, many things had gone wrong. Nothing affecting the entire planet, you understand, and nothing disastrous but, still, there had been some hitches. It all started off so well too. My journey from Edinburgh to Sydney was uneventful and I arrived safely and speedily... Continue Reading →
Never judge a book by its cover - so the saying goes. But I expect we're all guilty of breaking that one sometimes, both literally and figuratively. I certainly did when I bought a copy of Crossed Skis by Carol Carnac. I'm fairly new to detective/crime fiction and I'm not hugely knowledgeable about it. I'm... Continue Reading →
Yesterday should have been my first day at home after a journey of a lifetime to Australia and New Zealand. Ah, the best laid plans. Instead I've been home for nearly three weeks and have already completed my photo book and am awaiting its delivery from PhotoBox. I enjoyed putting the book together and sifting... Continue Reading →
It was the sign advertising books for sale that caught my eye. We were putting in time, my cousin Pam and I, until the doors of the theatre opposite opened. It was hot enough that I didn't want to wander far so we ducked inside an old building, were directed to a neo-classical lift and... Continue Reading →
Recently (recently enough to have to cut short my journey) I was travelling in Australia. As is my wont I tried to read books that had some relevance to my destination. Two such were by Nevil Shute: A Town Like Alice and the less well known The Far Country. I'm not an expert on the... Continue Reading →
